


Moo Snuckel

by Sauou



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: Gen, Good Samaritan, just something silly, superman brock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 18:53:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7982410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sauou/pseuds/Sauou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moo helps out a little old lady and gets some pie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moo Snuckel

Late in the morning, just before noon and Brock is standing at the crosswalk waiting for the light to change. His arms weighed down with several bags of groceries.

The traffic was light today, but still he preferred to walk the few blocks that separated his apartment from the corner store he usually shopped at.

A soft tap, tap, of gentle heels against the cobblestone approaches him from behind and he turns his head to see old Mrs Marley slowly walking, her cane in her left hand and her keys held tightly in her right.

She is taking her time. “Good Morning, dear”, she calls as Brock reaches instinctively out to give her his arm.

“Good morning,” he replies, and lets her hold onto his bicep for balance.

“Goodness!” She cries, as she usually does. “Aren’t you a strapping young man?” Squeezing the thick flesh of his arm with her long, thin fingers.

Brock laughs quietly, politely as he can because Mrs Marley always forgets.

“Are you headed out?” He asks, and shifts the groceries so they aren’t pushing against her small body in any way that could hurt her.

“I’m off to see my grandson,” she tells him, beaming. “He’s turning ten this week and I want to spoil him while I can.”

Brock laughs, and walks her along the sidewalk to her car. “I’m pretty sure you can still spoil him after he turns ten too.”

“But now I have an excuse to do some extra spoilage! It’s what grandmothers are for, afterall.” She giggles to herself and reaches for the car door.

“You’re such a sweet young man, thank you,” she smiles at him and aims for the lock of the car door. But her hands start to shake and the keys slip from between her fingers.

“Oh! Oh no!” Brock cries out, and drops his bags of groceries on the curb so he can lay on his side and peer beneath the car. The keys have slid almost halfway under the car already.

“They’re too far down there, I can’t reach.” He informs her sadly, then gets up and tries to reach from the side of the car that’s against the curb.

But she’s parked it too close to the sidewalk and he can’t even get a full hand between there, let alone enough to actually grab the keys.

“Oh no,” she worries. “What are we going to do?”

“I’ve got an idea,” Brock announces and stands up, dusting off his knees. “I’m going to lift the car, and you can grab the keys from there. It’s pretty close to the edge there, you won’t have to reach too far.”

“Alright I’ll,” she nods along in agreement until what he’s said catches up with her. “– wait what?”

But Brock has already stretched and is in position, fingers taking a firm hold on the underside of the car. “You ready?” he asks.

Mrs Marley only blinks, confused. Unsure if Brock is really being serious or not..

“Alright!” He grunts out, and begins lifting the car. The metal creaking and groaning as it shifts, the tires slide a little until they find purchase and, one inch. Five.

He’s got the car a foot off the ground, the muscles in his back are burning, his face is red from the strain, but he keeps lifting.

Thirteen inches. Fifteen. It’s almost a foot and a half and the muscles in his arms are straining but he’s got a good grip and he keeps the car there.

“Can you make it?” He groans, trying to control his breathing the words almost as heavy as the car. “Do I need to go higher?”

Mrs Marley stares at him, wide eyed before, “Oh! Oh yes.” She mutters, still surprised. And carefully lowers herself beside the car.

Its a hard reach for her, because her limbs just don’t bend and move like they used to. But it’d be completely impossible without Brock, and as she slides her hand (and the keys) out from under the car and into safety she can’t help thanking him.

“Oh dear, I can’t thank you enough! I don’t know what I would have done!” Slowly rising to her feet as Brock lowers the car gently back to the ground, careful not to drop it.

“Hah,” he huffs out when the car is settled and he has a moment to stretch. “Anyone would have done the same.”

“Anyone being Superman!” She laughs and pokes at his chest as he’s stretching. “Oh my, what muscles you have!”

She’s taken to squeezing every inch of him she can find to see how well built he is when she remembers. “I have a granddaughter, you know?”

“Mrs Marley!” Brock laughs and tries to escape her prodding. “I thought your granddaughter was married?”

“I’d rather have you for a son,” she sulks. But relents and stops grabbing at his muscles.

“You know, my grandson’s birthday isn’t until tomorrow anyways. He can stand one day without me spoiling him,” she muses aloud. “Why don’t you come inside and I’ll make you a nice apple pie?”

Brock finishes popping a shoulder muscle and asks, “Are you sure? Won’t he miss you?”

“He’ll be okay,” she nods and picks up one of Brock’s bags of groceries, heading back to her apartment.

“Come on now,” she says as she runs off with Brock’s bread. “I’ve got to repay you, Superman.”

.

“YouTube?” She asks. “That’s like a TV?”

“Um kind of,” Brock answers around mouthfuls of delicious pie. “Internet TV, I guess.”

“Huh,” she mutters by the sink as she washes the last of the cooking utensils. “And you have a special name for it?”

“Yeah,” Brock replies without thinking. “Moo Snuckel.”

“What’s that mean?” She immediately asks and Brock chokes on his pie.


End file.
